


remember these sheets

by jmcats



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Age Difference, Anal Sex, Blowjobs, Dirty Talk, Fingering, First Time, Porn with Feelings, Rimming, a hint of angst with some fluff too, hints of d/s too, older confident!Zayn, shy younger!Liam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-18
Updated: 2015-06-18
Packaged: 2018-04-04 22:37:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4155618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jmcats/pseuds/jmcats
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>'It’s different; much different.  It feels a bit like worship — It’s like liquid silver in his belly and Liam just keeps taking his time.'</i>
</p>
<p>(re: Zayn still gets so high off being with this shy, curly-haired boy who is slowly growing into his confidence... and maybe tonight, Zayn wants Liam to show him what <i>he</i> wants.)</p>
<p>a sequel to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/2458247">we don't need attention</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	remember these sheets

**Author's Note:**

> I've been wanting to do a follow-up to that first fic for quite a bit. I didn't know if it would be a goo idea but, well, here it is. Huge thanks to every little person who messaged me about the first fic, encouraging me to write this. It was meant to be a bunch of smut but it turned into something else so I hope it's still enjoyable.
> 
> I wrote this all in one Sunday night so, hopefully, it's not terrible and understandable.
> 
> The original prompt is [here](http://zaynmalikeatsass.tumblr.com/post/99952594488/can-u-imagine-this-liam-gettin-his-shit-rocked) and this addition comes from these posts: [prompts](http://jmcats.tumblr.com/tagged/younger%21liam-older%21zayn)
> 
> Title taken from "love in the sky" by the Weeknd

 

 

 

“You’re staring at me arse again.”

Zayn smirks to himself. He knows he doesn’t have to look behind himself to view it – Liam’s probably blushing like mad. Pink cheeks, wide eyes, his bottom lip snagged between his teeth, a soft red like the inside of a sweet plum.

It’s mostly his fault, he’s aware. He’s stretched on his belly across his lumpy university bed, shirt stripped off and hanging off his desk chair. There’s a Marlboro tucked behind his ear and some worn-soft jogging bottoms too low on his spine. Just a dodgy beanie perched sloppily on his head and yards of skin on display.

Oh, and his spine curved just enough to show off the small round of his arse under his joggers.

Not on purpose, of course, but –

Zayn likes to be comfortable on nights like this. Late Friday evenings with a pile of textbooks surrounding him, the stereo buzzing, and some boy too young to know what to do with his weekends sat on his bed.

Some boy like Liam that keeps distracting Zayn with his quiet humming and his clever kit (acid wash jeans, wriggling toes behind white socks with his Timberland boots by the door, crisp button-up because his mum uses too much starch) and flipping through boring reruns on the telly like he can’t contain all of the energy under his skin.

Sucking that bottom lip like a piece of sugary-sour candy.

Zayn peeks over his shoulder at him, looking up through his long eyelashes at the way Liam fidgets. Those silly curls, bright and gold under the light, half fall into his eyes and he cocks his chin up like he’s mustering a bit of confidence while looking back at Zayn.

“M’not,” he pouts like a right six year old.

Zayn snorts, rolling his eyes. Teasingly, he lifts his hips, wiggling his bum a little, adding an arch to his spine until he hears Liam exhale heavily.

“You _are_.”

“I’m just,” Liam stammers, nudging Zayn’s hip with his foot. “Like, ‘m just messing about, okay? Watching the telly.”

Zayn lifts his eyebrows, amused. His teeth snag his bottom lip as he twists his neck to get a better view of Liam –

He’s knocked against the headboard, ankles crossed and all the poor lighting of Zayn’s room billows over him like a pale blanket. He still looks so young, his hair a wreck because his hands won’t ever stay still and his skin is that fond shade of tan even though it’s still the edge of winter outside.

“You’re distractin’ me, babe,” Zayn huffs, turning back to his studies, waving a hand around all of the books. “S’pposed to focus, ‘member? My project is due in a week.”

“Sorry,” Liam mumbles, lip still fastened between his teeth. The music switches and Zayn instantly knows its Liam because he can’t help himself.

He grins down into his text, humming. He steals a sip of his coffee on the floor. It’s gone cold and the taste is bitter, sharp over his tongue. Absently, his fingers pick at the balls of lint all over Liam’s scarf – the one hanging from the end of the bed down into the floor, the sharp scent of woodsy cologne Liam likes best from Zayn’s collection.

(Zayn might’ve used his last few pounds from a summer job selling his artwork to buy Liam his own bottle but Liam still nicks Zayn’s half-empty one every chance he gets.)

In the background, Zayn can hear Liam’s phone buzzing on the sheets. It’s the fifth time this hour and Liam ignores it again, fidgeting on the bed, flinching when Zayn looks over his shoulder.

“Y’alright?” Zayn asks when Liam’s brows come together into a tight wrinkle.

Liam shrugs, chewing at his lip. He looks off to the walls, eyes completely unfocused.

“Yeah,” he hums, puckering his lips a bit.

They’re sinful and Zayn thinks of how they tasted when he propped the door open to let Liam in earlier. Sugary like those lemon tarts his sisters bake and dark mocha from those franchise coffees Liam likes to pretend he hates.

Plush, thick bottom lip that Zayn loves to drag the tip of his cock over when Liam’s begging for it –

Zayn looks away, exhaling. “Vas happenin’ babe?” he wonders, his accent decidedly thick because he knows it calms Liam.

He can hear Liam swallow, the arch of his foot pressed to Zayn’s hip. “It’s just Andy,” Liam replies. “S’nothing. He’s just being a dick about me not knocking about with our mates tonight. School’s having one of those formal dances or sommat.”

Zayn blinks down at his textbooks. He can hear the coil around Liam’s voice like he’s trying to play casual but Zayn knows him better now.

He can pick apart all of Liam’s little tendencies and how he’s shit at lying, never quite got the hang of playing it cool, even at seventeen.

His fingers scratch at his jaw for a beat before he asks, low, “Y’ didn’t wanna go?”

Liam clears his throat, slouching down. “Not, like. Not really?”

Zayn snorts. It’s hard not to find the shyness, blind unsureness in Liam’s voice still so entertaining. A bit endearing, he thinks.

“Bullocks, man,” he wheezes and Liam retaliates with a hard foot to Zayn’s side. He ignores it and the music changes again – bloody fidgety boyfriend, he swears.

“You could’ve,” Zayn shrugs, rereading the same passage for the third time. He makes a face and nearly knocks the books away. “Wouldn’t’ve been too pressed about it, honestly. Should enjoy your time with your mates. And the school stuff, right? It’s your last year.”

Liam gives a noncommittal noise behind him and Zayn almost half-twists around to mock Liam but he doesn’t bother. He’s certain Liam’s pink and embarrassed enough over it.

“Wanted t’ like,” he sighs, sounding deflated. “Keep you company, like? Dunno. Sounded like an ace idea. Crashing with you and doing stuff.”

“Stuff?” Zayn asks, teasingly. The angle of his smirk is crooked but he keeps it to himself. “Red bull and studies, babe. Yeah, yeah. Sounds bloody sexy. Got a proper stiffy over it.”

Liam knocks a foot to his side again but Zayn overlooks it. He twists over the sheets onto his back, propping himself halfway up with an elbow. He cock his legs apart with squinty eyes, pulling at his lower lip with his teeth while his spare hand drags languidly over his crotch. He gives himself a quick squeeze, mocking Liam.

“Tosser,” Liam pouts, flitting his eyes away.

Zayn laughs, still palming himself but his prick refuses to respond. Not when Liam looks so flustered and bashful a few yards away.

“ _C’mon_ ,” Zayn says between breaths, dropping the tone of his voice into something husky. “Could give me some amazing head while I memorize all of these dumb sonnets, babe.”

Liam folds his arms over his chest, trying to look cross, glaring back at Zayn.

Zayn sighs, flashing Liam an expectant smile. “S’nice,” he says, raising his eyebrows. “Ditching off to, dunno, _chill_ with me and all. C’n think of a million other things you could’ve done – “

“I like it here,” Liam mumbles, teeth still latched around his lower lip. “Your room. With you.”

It’s so quiet like Liam still hasn’t got a fist around his confidence even though Zayn has seen it –

In the dark, while he’s between Zayn’s thighs, looking up smugly. Or when he’s marking up Zayn’s hips like a right tease. The way Liam gets when he tugs at the longer bits of Zayn’s hair until tiny tears prick at the corners of Zayn’s eyes, lips twisted up when Zayn keeps trying to tug away to get back at Liam’s prick.

Liam’s a monster when no one’s looking and he’s so _comfortable_ in his skin between Zayn’s sheets.

“S’nice,” Zayn repeats, turning back onto his belly, trying to hide his affectionate smile.

(He’ll admit it – he’s never had someone like Liam. The kind of lad that makes Zayn smile without thinking. The one he’d rather be burrowed under a thick duvet with on a Friday night rather than out for drinks with Niall or breathing in the sticky smoke of a spliff with Harry.

It’s a bit terrifying so he doesn’t think about it. Not often.)

Zayn rubs at his eyes, all of the print in his textbook going fuzzy. He chews the soft flesh of his bottom lip, the telly just white noise in the background, the music going from the Weeknd to Miguel, back to some Frank Ocean tune Liam loves to play on repeat.

He _hears_ Liam shift on the bed before he feels it, the mattress squeaking and groaning. His hip nudges up to Zayn’s, a warm hand smoothing down Zayn’s bare spine, his nose exhaling a warm breath to Zayn’s shoulder. He moves all over the sheets until he’s splayed next to Zayn, curls dipping down into his eyes before he flicks his head to knock them away.

Zayn lifts an eyebrow at him. “Vas happenin’?”

Liam smirks, shrugging awkwardly from his position. His palm is sweaty and it sticks to Zayn’s skin as he moves. Fingertips dip low on Zayn’s spine. Liam’s cheeks are bright pink, turning almost red as he looks down instead of into Zayn’s eyes.

Hopelessly shy and so convincing with the way his teeth twist his lip, painfully.

“Just wanted t’ like, chill,” he murmurs. “And stuff.”

“Stuff,” Zayn repeats, exhaling the word.

Liam gives a jerky nod, trying to shrug again. He’s still so awful at being _casual as fuck_ like Zayn is so naturally.

“Yeah, like,” Liam breathes, keeping his eyes low, soft eyelashes that are dark and shadowy over the tops of his cheeks. He smiles dumbly but his fingers keep tracing idle circles over the dimples on Zayn’s spine.

Lower, unsteady motions. The elastic of Zayn’s joggers is worn, loose, and Liam’s fingers tremble on his skin as they slip underneath.

Its _instinct_ – Zayn arches just a little to seek out the touch and Liam grins down at the sheets.

“Was thinking,” Liam huffs, his voice going unintentionally deep as he speaks. “ _Stuff_ would be cool, like.”

Zayn rolls his eyes, baring his hips into the sheets but Liam’s hand follows mechanically. He palms the small swell of Zayn’s arse, thumbing over the shape of muscle. Another squeeze before Liam wrinkles his brow.

“What’cha think about, babe?” Zayn wonders, inching closer until he can feel the heat of Liam’s shoulder through all the dumb layers of clothes he’s wearing.

Liam snorts, going redder. His ring finger glides the crack of Zayn’s arse in a lazy motion and the shock of anticipation burns up Zayn’s spine.

“I, um, like – “

“D’you want to suck me off?” Zayn offers, eyes gone dark while staring at Liam.

Liam exhales roughly, swallowing.

“Wanted me t’ eat you out?”

There’s no muting the crimson shade of Liam’s skin but his fingers keep teasing all over Zayn’s arse. He shifts over the sheets, grinding down like he’s trying to give himself some relief. Zayn wonders how hard he is behind his jeans, how wet his briefs probably are. Soaked.

Liam’s fingers find the groove of Zayn’s hip and they almost follow the valley underneath, to Zayn’s belly, to where the head of his dick sits sticky under his navel. Plump and ready for the drag of Liam’s barely-calloused fingertips. For _anything_ , actually.

“Did’ya think about me shagging you, love?” Zayn asks, his tongue heavy and his accent thick from arousal. “Haven’t in awhile. Not since – “

They both flinch and exhale a bit at the thought.

The memory of Liam squirming in Zayn’s lap and barely taking the tip of his dick the first time. All of the tense muscles behind his skin, the pool of sweat under his throat, the pinch of his mouth when that’s all he could take for a beat. The soft arch of his spine, two hours later, when he was on his belly and Zayn dicked into him so gently that it felt like _hours_ before they found a good rhythm –

Before Liam was _loud_. Fucking shivering all over Zayn’s bed and lifting back onto Zayn’s cock. The sheets messy and soaked from all of Liam’s precome, from the excess lube they used to loosen Liam up.

The filthy way Liam kept chanting _‘y’ can’t stop fuck me fuck me harder just keep going I think I c’n come again if you – ‘_ until Zayn carefully slid a sweaty palm over Liam’s mouth to keep him quiet. To focus.

All of those muffled groans pressed to Zayn’s hand as he rode it all out – spilling inside of Liam after a few seconds and the numbness down his spine as he fucked Liam through another orgasm.

(And afterwards, kissing at Liam’s jaw, holding him close until he wasn’t as sore from it all.)

“S’that what you were thinking ‘bout?”

Liam shudders a bit before ducking his head. He shrugs, looking slightly confused like that’s a brand new thought. Under the low lights and the blue shining off the telly, he chews his lip red.

Red like a sun and it distracts Zayn just enough.

One of his hands reaches up and tangles into those soft curls, tugging with enough pressure that Liam moans accidentally before Zayn snogs him. Just a rough brush of lips and Zayn’s tongue fucking into Liam’s mouth because this boy makes him _insatiable_.   Completely starved for anything Liam has to offer.

He bruises Liam’s mouth, sucking in his lower lip. He can feel all of Liam’s accelerated exhales and he laughs over Liam’s lips when the hand on his arse becomes urgent. He twists a tuft of curls between his fingers, the way he likes when Liam’s sucking him off sloppily.

“D’you want that?” he asks, dragging his tongue lazily along Liam’s lower lip as he draws off.

“Um – “

“S’that what you want Liam? Just tell me.”

Liam whimpers gently, chasing another kiss. His skin has gone completely rose under all of his clothes.

Zayn loves it – the way Liam still struggles to wrap his pretty mouth around all of the dirty thoughts he can’t say out loud. Even in the dark, stripped off and leaking all over his belly, it takes Liam so long to whisper a _‘can you get me off with your fingers’_ like it’s not allowed.

Like it’s a secret. It gets Zayn so bloody hard that he feels overheated.

“Dunno,” Liam mutters, keeping his chin down. “Sort of but, like. Reversed?”

Zayn blinks at Liam for a long moment because –

Honestly?

He sucks in a sharp breath that rings like a gasp and he’s so distracted that he doesn’t recognize Liam’s lips under his jaw now, over his throat. There’s enough pressure to leave a bite but Zayn doesn’t mind.

He’s long gotten over the fact that Liam likes to leave behind little mementos on his skin because Zayn allows him. Just a series of _‘mine mine mine’_ for all the world to view.

(Mainly because Zayn knows he can’t do the same for Liam, not anywhere visible. Not for his sisters to see, ragging on him to his parents. He knows Liam gets enough shit for being a bit geeky over Batman and overexcited about music and he still gets bullied sometimes for being – well, _Liam_.)

(The same Liam that Zayn drunkenly admitted to Harry he’s a bit mad over. Ridiculously so.)

Teeth nip along Zayn’s stubble and he doesn’t turn away from the attention. He keeps a hand cradled over the back of Liam’s skull, pushing him into Zayn’s skin.

“I sort of want to,” Liam says, swallowing around his words, “if you’d like to. I brought some lube and – “

Zayn trembles under all of the pressure from those soft lips. His skin bristles all over, a sharp burn like holding your fingers to a flame. The tip of his cock blurts slippery precome all in his joggers and the cotton is so damp at the rasp in Liam’s voice.

“Can I – “

He holds his breath because he needs Liam to say it. He needs him to shuck off all of that boyish awkwardness that Zayn finds so fucking amusing and just bloody _say it_.

“What?”

Liam mumbles under Zayn’s jaw, exhaling sharply.

“Louder.”

He grins when Liam turns onto his side, grinding over Zayn’s hip.

“Words, babe,” Zayn exhales with large, dark eyes. The room is just a haze, the way it gets when he’s high off good product Harry provides and dizzy from too many shots at dumb uni parties. “Use ‘em, Liam. Tell me.”

He can feel Liam clearing his throat, trying to steady his breath so his words don’t come out so unsure.

It doesn’t work.

“Was thinking – “

“Yeah,” Zayn giggles, gripping at Liam’s hair again. A thin, gutted moan floats out of Liam’s throat. “I got that much.”

“Will you just lemme – “

Zayn pulls at Liam’s curls just enough that his head tips back and they’re eye to eye. The blue shine of the telly off Liam’s nervous expression and the fuzzy yellow light spitting over Zayn’s carefully set expression.

“Let you _what_ , man?” Zayn asks, darker. “Gonna get me prick all wet wit’ your mouth? Pull me off? You gonna get me on my back and use your tongue to finally lick me out?”

Liam bites ruthlessly over his swollen lower lip, whining.

“Tell me.”

Liam struggles back onto his spine, his jeans puckering up from how hard he is. The denim is stained dark, soaked all down the zip from precome. He fists his hand into a pocket, wriggling around until he can tug a long strip of condoms out. He drops them across his chest and Zayn smirks so filthily next to him.

“S’that for?”

A shaky exhale crosses Liam’s parted lips and they’re obscenely red from his teeth. From Zayn’s kisses.

“Wanna, like,” Liam breathes, his voice going gruff, “wanna fuck you, if that’s alright? Like, been thinking about it, loads. All the time.”

Zayn smiles crookedly, nodding along. He cards his fingers through Liam’s hair, casual and slow. “Keep going.”

Liam’s swallow is so audible, over the music and the buzzing muteness of the telly. “I-I mean, if s’okay with you? I want to be,” he pauses like something harsh fits into his larynx. “I want to be _good for_ _you_. Be a good boy, like. Make you feel incredible, Z. S’what I want, so.”

He’s so flushed, his skin damp with sweat, this freckle of pink all over.

Zayn wriggles his eyebrows for a moment, teasingly, before he sighs gently. He twists away from Liam’s hands, loosening the drawstring of his bottoms, letting them slide down his hips as he climbs up and carefully straddles Liam’s chest.

The band slips down under the head of his dick and he’s so wet. His fingers, out of instinct, idly swipe over the head until he feels sensitive. It’s slippery and shiny and Liam licks his lips at the sight.

It draws up a sharp smirk over Zayn’s mouth. “Yeah,” he mumbles, kneeing up the mattress until he’s bracketing Liam’s shoulders. “I know what y’want, babe.”

He scoots his jogging bottoms lower, letting them wrinkle around his thighs, under his bum. It’s cold enough outside that Zayn can feel it through the window but the chill is dull because his skin feels so lit.

“You’re always grinding off on me sheets at night,” Zayn whispers, his voice darker now. “Sometimes right up on me bum. Get me back all wet and I always know why.”

Liam flexes up an eyebrow, daring Zayn.

It scuttles a nice shiver up Zayn’s spine before he wraps lazy fingers around the shaft of his dick, pulling himself off a little. He leans down, bracing a hand next to Liam’s head, smiling.

“You wanna get off inside of me, right?”

Liam winces, embarrassed. His fingers come up to hold Zayn’s hips before he nods with a broken smile. His face is scrunched but there’s something raw in his eyes. He’s overwhelmed and impatient beneath Zayn but he’s always so _good_ like this.

So ready for whatever Zayn will give him.

“Alright,” Zayn finally agrees, easing up closer with his hips. He lifts an eyebrow at Liam, still pulling himself off, the head a slippery mess. “Think y’can do it?”

Liam nods, looking frantic. His fingers squeeze a little too roughly into Zayn’s skin but he doesn’t mind.

He remembers being seventeen and desperate. Needing anything to get off – a spit-slick palm or a pretty mouth or even just the soft rub of worn bed sheets under the head of his dick.

His lips twitch up into a grin before he sneakily drags the tip of his cock across that red, red mouth. It leaves a gloss that Liam instinctively licks away – a kid chasing the sugar from candy. Begrudgingly, he drags his hips back before the tip of Liam’s tongue can lick at the slit of his cock.

He’s just a tease and, he knows, Liam _needs_ this –

Getting all worked up and sweaty and eager for Zayn. It’s like touching a star with your bare hand – the shock and burn and fascination.

“Quit it,” Liam pouts.

“Want it?”

Liam gives a sharp nod, licking at his lips again.

“Just a taste,” Zayn mumbles, easing forward, using his thumb to drag Liam’s mouth open before cautiously feeding his cock to him.

It’s euphoric – _Liam’s mouth_. His sloppy technique whenever he’s sucking Zayn off. He’s slightly practiced now, careful with his teeth and drawing Zayn in enough that he gags happily around the tip. The tight seal of his lips around the shaft and how his tongue massages the underside.

Zayn’s eyes slide down to watch Liam’s mouth instead of his blissful expression. He can’t stare for too long at the way Liam’s eyelashes flutter like wings over his cheeks or the scrunch of his brow like he’s concentrating on making this perfect for Zayn –

(Because it’s all so bloody _distracting_ and it makes Zayn’s lungs contract painfully)

The pink of his mouth is like bubblegum. His tongue sneaks out when he focuses on the head, shiny with spit and Zayn’s precome. He likes to fuck the slit for more, moaning like it’s sweet instead of sharp, tangy-bitter like Zayn remembers from tasting himself a few times while pulling off.

He mouths under the head, messy kisses that spread spit all over Liam’s plush mouth. He’s careless for a moment, hollowing his cheeks, pulling off with a _pop_ like he’s feasting on an ice lolly. A proper addict for the taste of Zayn’s dick, kissing the flared head.

“That’s it,” Zayn encourages, slowly fucking his cock back between Liam’s lips. “S’good, innit?”

Liam moans around him, humming, these little vibrations that nearly knock Zayn off balance. He’s so unaware – this charmingly desperate boy who’s so incredible at getting Zayn off without knowing it.

But Zayn will never tell him – he likes the chase.

“Take it in, babe.”

Liam complies without hesitation, widening his mouth, hollowing out his throat. It’s awkward and probably painful, the angle Liam has to take to swallow Zayn. The choke at the back of his throat when he fits the head inside, happy little dots of tears slipping down his cheeks as he struggles for a breath. Leaning almost all the way up to brush his soft lips against the rough hair at the base of Zayn’s dick.

“Careful,” he mumbles, snagging long fingers into Liam’s curls, drawing him back. “Don’t hurt y’self.”

Liam gasps, giggling. “ _Fuck_ ,” he says, his voice scratched and harsh. “It’s a bit mad when I do that. Nearly black out.”

He’s wearing this goofy expression like he’s so damn pleased with himself and Zayn – _shit_. He just wants to cuddle this boy, _his boy_ , keep him pinned down to the bed until he stops shaking from all the exertion.

“Want a bit more?” he offers, dazed.

Liam blinks away the dollop of tears sticking his eyelashes together before nodding.

“Fuck. Just sort of want to – “

His words get caught on a breath and, yeah, Zayn gets it. He’s nearly the same when he’s on his knees for Liam, rug scratching over his skin and his jaw aching around how thick Liam is. That feeling at the back of his throat when he knows Liam’s close, swallowing around all the precome for something thicker.

It bites over his skin for a moment before he nudges the tip of his cock to Liam’s lips once more.

“Keep going,” Zayn whispers. “Open up a little more, y’can do it.”

He keeps a hand tucked into Liam’s curls, his auxiliary one sliding up his chest, pinching a nipple unconsciously. He wants to bite at his knuckles watching Liam furrow his brow, eyes shut, opening and closing his mouth around Zayn’s prick repeatedly.

Zayn swears the room is spinning, too dizzily hot from the way Liam gets under his skin. He tugs off the beanie, letting the cigarette fall from behind his ear. His hair is soft and thick, falling flat over his forehead, damp at the roots.

Absently, his hips find a rhythm to the Weeknd, the head of his cock so sensitive from Liam’s throat. Liam’s noisy below him, all of the swallowing and soft gagging and helpless moans.

Zayn swears he’s going to come and that would be dreadful. He wants more from this boy.

“Fucking hell,” Liam drags out, a hoarse growl in his voice when Zayn pulls out. “Really got deep that time.”

Zayn grins down at him because Liam looks a little impressed with himself. Not exactly smug but infinitely proud.

He stares at how shiny Liam’s mouth is now. Zayn tuts when Liam lifts a hand to wipe it all away. Liam freezes, so obedient and willing. His hand drops away and Zayn mumbles a _‘such a good boy’_ before bending down to kiss him.

The taste of himself all over Liam’s tongue is incredibly addictive, something he doesn’t quite tire of. It’s almost sweeter, his precome, when it’s on the tip of Liam’s tongue and shoved into Zayn’s mouth.

They’re lazy for a long moment, Zayn nosing his way over Liam’s jaw while Liam pants roughly beneath him. He can feel the bulge in Liam’s jeans on his naked hip, Liam’s hands finding their own path on the back of his shoulders, across his spine.

“C’mon,” Zayn encourages, smiling. “Oughta tell me what y’want. All proper and stuff.”

Liam huffs beneath him, turning his head just enough to steal a kiss.

Zayn’s careful, bracing his weight with one hand by Liam’s head. He’s lithe under Zayn, still growing into all of his muscles and strong frame. Wider shoulders and brilliant abdominal muscles. Sturdy hands meant for building and breaking things. It’s been enough months now that Zayn is starting to notice all of the changes in Liam and it’s wicked.

This boy turning into something else.

He’s half into a kiss, holding Liam’s jaw to keep his mouth open when Liam mutters, “Can I eat you out?”

Zayn’s next breath catches wetly at the back of his throat.

“Hmm?”

Liam blushes but doesn’t back away. “Wanna eat you out,” he whispers, straining up for another kiss. “You’re always so good at it but. I’ve never even. Can I?”

It’s all broken up words and fragmented sentences but Zayn gets it. His cock throbs defenselessly. Liam’s thin fingers fit between his ribs and he grinds up like an extra emphasis.

Zayn doesn’t need it.

“Strip off,” he demands, lips still fit over Liam’s. “Get this kit off now.”

He’s buzzing under his skin, rolling off of Liam to let the smaller boy escape. His breathing hasn’t quite settled but he rolls onto his belly, giving his poor cock a bit of friction from the sheets while watching Liam struggle out of his clothes.

He’s clumsy and unfairly humorous each time he does this. Hopping around Zayn’s room, knocking into the desk when he tries to pull off his shirt, the cuffs catching around his wrists. Peeling off the silly Batman shirt underneath, a loose vest too. Nearly tipping over trying to yank off his jeans, bouncing on one foot and looking a right mess.

Zayn grins down into the sheets, folding his arms to give his chin a pillow to rest on.

Liam is absolutely dreadful at looking sexy while doing this and, secretly, Zayn thinks it’s even hotter watching him try.

He’s down to his pants and socks, lifting a foot to try and yank one off when Zayn clucks at him.

“Leave ‘em on,” he insists, feeling a little shy when Liam’s eyes go wide. “The socks, babe, not the pants.”

He hides his eyes, feeling the burn over his cheeks because maybe it’s a kink now. Maybe he enjoys when Liam forgets to take off his socks in bed or how he’s so keyed up during a snog that he leaves his shirt on while Zayn goes down on him. That top marks blowie Liam gave Zayn one morning while still wearing his daft Scooby Doo pajama bottoms.

It’s a _thing_ , alright? Piss off.

Liam complies without hesitation, shaking out his curls, scrubbing them out of his face with one hand. Zayn eases out of his joggers, kicking them towards the headboard while he spreads out at the foot of the bed. Liam stumbles all the way up, kneeing over the mattress until he’s behind Zayn.

“Know what you’re doing, babe?” Zayn wonders, smirking.

“Dunno,” Liam replies, softly. “Think you taught me a thing or two, yeah? All the times you’ve done this for me.”

“For _me_ ,” Zayn corrects, sighing. “Love the taste of your – “

Liam hisses, smacking a soft palm to one of Zayn’s cheeks. “Don’t be naughty.”

Zayn huffs out a laugh, shrugging nonchalantly. “S’true. Quite fancy how loose you get when I’m tonguing you down there, man. S’like the only proper way to get you ready for me fingers.”

He can feel Liam’s hands moving shakily over his spine, palming his arse, carefully spreading Zayn open before going back to massaging up his lower back.

Zayn sighs, impatient. “Oughta have a go at it, I reckon,” he suggests, nuzzling down into his forearm.

“Y’think?”

“If you want to,” Zayn replies, still keeping his voice low and careless. “Doesn’t matter t’ me. I can take your fingers whenever – “

“No, no,” Liam says, quickly. Zayn can feel him nuzzling down onto the mattress, knocking Zayn’s knees apart, scooting closer. “Wanna do this. Alright?”

Zayn hums instead of replying, fluttering his eyes shut. His cock bubbles out precome, anticipation setting in when Liam uses his thumbs to spread Zayn out. He sucks in a calm breath and feels Liam’s quick exhale all over his skin before he’s snuffling his nose to Zayn’s hole.

It’s different; much different. It feels a bit like worship – Liam dragging his nose up Zayn’s crack, mouthing at his hole, exhaling hot breaths into him. He already feels open with his hole fluttering in anticipation. It’s like liquid silver in his belly and Liam just keeps taking his time.

The bloody bastard is lazy and languid, sniffing at Zayn, leaving tiny kisses from the belly of Zayn’s spine down to the soft skin behind his balls. He keeps missing Zayn’s hole and it’s making him manic, he swears.

His toes curl by the headboard and Zayn, encouragingly, scoots back towards Liam’s mouth.

“Li – “

The word breaks off when Liam groans, surging forward. His strong fingers grip around Zayn’s narrow hips, tugging him up off the bed so Liam can bury his face between Zayn’s cheeks.

It’s _mental_ – the way Liam goes at it with this boyish curiosity. He breathes hot all over Zayn’s skin before flattening his tongue over Zayn’s hole. Long, broad stripes with extra saliva. He points his tongue and gives Zayn’s hole a soft jab, over and over until Zayn has to bite his forearm to keep in the moans.

Liam’s a fucking genius at this – at everything, really.

He’s still so boyish and inquisitive, working his tongue over Zayn’s hole until he gets a reaction. Mouthing at all of the spit pooling there, trying to push it inside.

Zayn smears his mouth to the duvet, muting his first few whimpers. It’s been too long – the last bloke that did this was a little more calculated and predictable.

But Liam is nothing like that.

There’s an echo of how noisy his mouth is when he does this. The sloppy technique, the way he goes about opening Zayn up with just the tip of his tongue. He’s a bit ravenous, sucking at Zayn’s hole, tonguing him like a proper schoolboy having his first go at a drippy cunt.

(And, shit, Zayn doesn’t want to think of it _that way_ because Liam is – he’s something more and this is a first. It’s another _‘wow’_ that Zayn can’t quite put his finger to but he knows it means something.

Maybe a little more for Zayn now than Liam but that’s a bit heavy.)

There’s a throb all down his belly that reaches right down to his cock until it jolts, smacking precome under his navel. He knees are shaking when he tries to crawl up onto them, pushing back against Liam’s plush mouth.

“Stay still,” Liam demands, his voice gone rough.

Zayn whimpers into his wrist, nodding even though Liam can’t see. For a split second, he feels insecure. He can’t function and he wants to be _so good for Liam_ that –

Bloody hell.

“Get me wet,” he forces out, trying to rediscover his cockiness. “C’mon, babe. Get me all wet for your dick. Open me up.”

Liam moans behind him, digging in with his tongue.

Zayn feels a twinge in his knees from this angle but he ignores it. He pushes back onto Liam’s tongue, biting his lower lip nearly bloody. His fingers curl into the sheets, pulling. The rattle behind his ribcage shouldn’t feel so foreign but it does.

Liam’s lips feel even softer like this, pressed to Zayn’s hole, his tongue curling inside. It prickles up Zayn’s spine, all over his skin like goosebumps made of lightning. Sweat pools down his skin as he strains not to giggle when Liam flicks his tongue rapidly against the rim.

“Where’d you learn that?”

“Porn,” Liam admits, sounding abashed, breathless. “Queued up a few things. A bit filthy, innit? Some proper good stuff on – “

“Leeyum,” Zayn whines, settling back down on the lumpy mattress. Liam follows him, keeping his mouth on one of Zayn’s cheeks. “Been stroking off watching some bloke mess about on a bird?”

He can feel Liam’s shy smile over his hole. “Was this one bloke who sorta looked like you,” he admits, deep and quiet, “and he was letting this _fit lad_ eat him out like this. All fussy on the sheets, so noisy. Just wondering if y’like, dunno, d’ya get loud like that too?”

The heavy blush that soaks Zayn’s cheeks makes his shoulders hunch up defensively. He squeezes his eyes shut but lifts his hips just enough to feel Liam’s tongue.

“Dunno,” he whispers, biting his lip. “Never had a lad like you make me feel so – “

The words die off in his throat, even though Liam’s thumb stokes his hip encouragingly.

“Do I make y’wanna get loud?”

Zayn sighs impatiently and his brow furrows deeply across his forehead. “Yeah,” he breathes, curling his fingers into the duvet. “Fuck. Happy?”

Liam stills behind him for a brief second. Zayn’s certain that’s done it – he’s admitted too much. He’s awfully good at keeping secrets but Liam makes him want to open up to the world.

“Be happy when I’m _in you_ , man,” Liam finally exhales and he doesn’t say much else.

He drips spit over Zayn’s hole, using his tongue to shove it inside, and that fire low in Zayn’s belly spreads like an epidemic. It’s sick, how hard Zayn’s heart flutters and how all of his limbs go numb while Liam pulls at his hips until Zayn’s fucking himself on Liam’s tongue.

It’s easier, every time Liam pulls off, for him to slip back inside. His lips feel swollen on Zayn’s skin, thick and soft at once. There’s spit dripping down onto Zayn’s balls and he’s rubbing off desperately on the sheets.

He can do it – get off like this. Just Liam’s tongue and the sheets but he’s not.

Not yet.

“C’mon, Li,” Zayn pants, keeping his eyes closed, his brow furrowed. “Get deep. Show me how good you are.”

Liam’s still a bit lazy, like he’s savoring every bit of this, but his tongue pokes and flicks until Zayn spreads all around it. He’s burning up like a star falling out of orbit and his skin prickles with sweat. His knees feel raw and his spine aches from arching but he keeps shoving back.

Liam keeps spreading him open and siding his tongue inside.

“So good,” Zayn says, dragging his mouth across the ink on his forearm. “Fuck, you’re _so good_ at this.”

He yelps when Liam sneaks a hand under him, casually pulling at Zayn’s cock until the sheets are soaked. It’s always like this – fucking about until Zayn has to ball up all of his linen afterwards and have a proper smoke outside of the laundry room across campus, waiting on his sheets to dry.

They’re so messy and careless about it all and Zayn thinks that’s what gets him bloody aroused. Nothing about this chemistry is sorted out. It’s just two tornadoes colliding, leaving anarchy and no survivors.

“Taste good,” Liam mumbles, sucking at Zayn’s hole once more.

Zayn feels a bit embarrassed about it all. He wonders does his skin have that same flavor of minty soap like Liam’s does whenever he spreads Liam out. Maybe he’s muskier, a bit more mature and developed than Liam. Maybe there’s an after burn of too many cigarettes on his skin.

He wants to know and he wants so much more.

“Fingers,” Zayn groans, pushing his face into the duvet. He bites down, lifting his hips up. “Want to be so full. Gimme your fingers, Li, _c’mon_.”

Liam drags off with a harsh breath, struggling for oxygen, squeezing Zayn’s hip like he needs help coming down from a high. It makes Zayn shake across the duvet.

He’s too caught in trying to repurpose all of his own limbs, still yanking at the duvet, his face scrunched. His cheek feels warm against the comforter, sweat wetting his brow, eyes fluttering opened and closed because he can’t find a clear focus.

But he hears the catch when Liam pops a bottle of lube open, he feels Liam using his thumb and middle finger to spread him open before the cold drizzle slides over his hole. He jerks a bit, still unprepared, grumbling.

It’s fucking tragic how easily he settles down into the duvet again, spreading his legs, blindly reaching to find a pillow on the floor before stuffing it under his hips.

“M’good,” he says before Liam can ask, grinning. “Give it a go, man.”

It’s Liam’s thumb first, spreading the liquid around. There’s too much, all of the excess dribbling down over Zayn’s balls but he doesn’t mind as much when Liam gives a tentative push. There’s enough pressure that Zayn exhales deeply and Liam’s thumb slips in before he quickly pulls it out, sounding awed.

“C’mon, man,” Zayn laughs, nuzzling his face into his forearm. “You’ve done this t’ me before. Fingered me and stuff. Remember that time – “

There’s a sharp gasp behind him and, yeah, _Liam remembers_.

A lazy Monday while Liam was on holiday during winter break. Zayn’s knees hitched up to his chest, spread out while Liam worked two slow fingers inside of him. The way Liam pulled off at watching his own fingers disappear inside of Zayn, coming a little too quickly all over Zayn’s balls.

It was fucking animalistic, the blind tug of Liam’s hand over his cock while he curled his fingers in Zayn. How Zayn scooped up Liam’s come, holding Liam’s eyes while he gave himself a slow wank with it.

A messy little show for Liam, spread out with his clenching hole and a hand between his legs, moaning obscenely until Liam’s cock fattened up again. Coming with a tight gasp in his chest while Liam watched – the bloody bastard grinning cheekily like _he_ was the reason Zayn was so flushed afterwards.

(He was and Zayn had to bury that thought in his chest for a week before he could touch his own traitorous dick again.)

Liam scoots a little closer, his knees nudging Zayn’s thighs further apart until he’s spread like a star over the mattress. His middle finger circles the rim, catching, slipping in and out. He’s still a little overcautious, timid about it all until Zayn grunts.

“C’mon, man. Two,” he exhales, pressing back towards Liam’s touch. “Could do one but, like. Need you, man.”

He tries to sound shameless when he says it but something curls around Zayn’s core because it’s true. He needs Liam and he needs to skip all of this just to get Liam’s cock inside but he knows better. He hasn’t been like this – on the end of a shag, feeling someone push inside – since before meeting Liam and he knows the stretch is necessary,

And he knows, admittedly, Liam likes this part too. Likes the newness and the excitement over it all.

It feels selfish and selfless at once until Zayn’s confused, buckling under the heat when Liam finally eases his index and middle finger inside of him.

His cock twitches under him and it’s automatic – he feels _full_. Stuffed.

Liam bends over him, almost covering him, easing his fingers in deeper. His lips stray all over Zayn’s tight shoulder blades, down the flex of his spine, over each knob.

The stretch is familiar, making something awful catch in Zayn’s throat because Liam’s fingers always feel better than his own. Even though he’s unpracticed and still uncertain at what angle to move to find Zayn’s soft spot, he’s incredible at taking his time. Making Zayn burn across the sheets, squirming to help guide him.

“Tight,” Liam breathes over Zayn’s spine.

Zayn hums appreciatively, arching up. “Yeah,” he breathes because he can’t think of anything else to say.

He doesn’t really think words are necessary but Liam gets so talkative like this and Zayn just listens, schooling his breath to the music in the background – the _‘until the sun goes red’_ that beats all over his skin.

His skin flushes from his chest up. He turns his head into the sheets, wiping off the sweat, exhaling a quiet moan. He loves how thick Liam’s fingers have gotten, how his knuckles add an extra stretch when he slides further in.

Zayn bites at his lip, knowing they’re not quite as thick as Liam’s cock. He wonders how many fingers he’ll need for that.

Liam slips out, the squelch of Zayn’s hole making him blush. He leans up, trying to find that touch again but Liam settles a palm flat to the small of his back, pushing him back down.

“Wanna have a look,” Liam admits, his voice going deep. “Lay back.”

Zayn goes without thinking. He spreads down over the duvet, his cock twitching beneath him. He feels rooted to the duvet, aching to touch himself. Needing Liam’s fingers again.

“Lemme have a proper look,” Liam pleads until Zayn stops shaking on the bed.

Zayn gives a small nod, biting over his lip, blinking his eyes open. He doesn’t twist to watch Liam, too dazed and lazy. Instead, he finds the telly and some silly rerun of reality television. His pack of cigarettes at the end of the desk. Liam’s scarf on the floor.

The box of takeaway they fed each other while Zayn studied.

This shitty university room turned into their own little fort away from the world.

He forces himself to relax when Liam breaches him with two fingers again. All of his muscles bunch under his skin but he settles when Liam twists, finds his way inside of Zayn.

Zayn groans into the crook of his elbow, the skin already damp with sweat. It burns down his lungs while Liam’s erection brushes haphazardly over the back of his thigh. Dripping and sticky at the tip. This sweet anticipation building until it threatens to crack Zayn’s ribs in half.

“You take my fingers so well,” Liam murmurs. “Don’t think I’m as good as this – “

“You are,” Zayn heaves, nudging up to get Liam deeper. “Take me so well. You get all squirmy, like. Especially on your back.”

Liam groans helplessly, the noise turning into a whine and Zayn uses it to his advantage to carefully fuck himself onto Liam’s fingers. The head of his cock is slick, smearing all over the pillow, and he swears he’s going to nut off like this.

With Liam’s fingers inching nearer to his prostate and his dick grinding off on the pillow.

He feels so confused for a moment, in this awe that leaves him gutted. Because all he wants, underneath the surface, is to watch how amazed Liam is by all of this. To know he’s creating this – he doesn’t know what to call it. It’s weird and he likes it more than he wants to admit.

All of his thoughts are interrupted by Liam’s fingers nudging over his prostate and, then, Liam’s soft, “There we are. Found it, then?”

Zayn’s face scrunches but he nods, unable to do much else. He shoves back until Liam finds it again, pressing harder, making all of Zayn’s limbs tingle.

“Love that part,” Liam mumbles like his teeth are holding his bottom lip hostage. “When you get me right there, babe. It’s mad, honestly.”

A huff of laughter scratches up Zayn’s throat. He soothes the blush on his cheeks across the duvet, panting. His cock gives a jerk, spurting precome everywhere.

“Keep going?”

“Not f’you, like,” Zayn says, holding tight to a whine under his teeth. “You need t’ get in me, man. Or I might just nut and, like, don’t wanna not have y’ fucking me, alright? S’what I want, _beautiful_.”

It’s a diversion tactic and he doesn’t know how he manages it, not with Liam’s fingers filling him up, but it steals Liam’s focus. It freezes his fingers and Zayn feels bright like a lighthouse right here. The thick, cold night outside beating at his window and Liam leaning over him to kiss the back of his shoulder.

“I-I’m a bit,” Liam stammers and Zayn gets it.

He honestly does.

“Don’t mind it, babe,” Zayn replies, smiling. “M’not worried about y’ being brilliant or nowt. Just want you to, like. Y’can do it, Leeyum. Y’can be such a good lad for me and fuck me how y’want, alright?”

The buzz in his ears is so damn loud that he doesn’t hear Liam shuffling around but he feels his fingers pull free. He clenches for them, wrinkling his brow with embarrassment except –

Zayn knows better than to feel that way. He’s so bloody _head over heels_ for this bloke. He’s so good at pretending not to be bothered over it all. How he’s always thinking about Liam and texting him between classes and inviting him up, even if it means this boy steals his attention all while he’s trying to study up for some exam.

Belatedly, he thinks maybe this is all a bit more for himself than it is for Liam – some sort of affirmation he can’t willing squeeze his heart around.

“Fuck,” Liam mutters and Zayn can’t help himself. He peeks over his shoulder at Liam fumbling with his _second_ rubber, the first discarded and ripped by his knee.

“Christ, Liam,” he laughs, turning away when Liam crinkles his brow. “Take your time.”

“I’m ‘bout to bloody shoot off from fingering you and y’want me to take me time?”

Liam sounds impatient and juvenile, reminding Zayn how young, untainted he is. It’s endearing so he spreads out over the sheets, humming like he’s bored with it all.

“Whatever, man,” Zayn sighs. “S’ppose I can just settle for your fingers if you can’t – “

“Got it!” Liam yelps, excited, shuffling all over the bed until he’s half-leaning across Zayn’s spine. “’Sides, not missing out on this, alright?”

Zayn smiles down into the duvet, nodding. “Gonna tell all your mates about how you finally stopped being a dorky virgin after this?”

Liam nuzzles his nose to the space behind Zayn’s ear. “Actually,” he grins, “was thinking about telling ‘em how sick it was shagging me badass boyfriend who I can’t stop thinkin’ about, yeah?”

And that’s it – those little things Liam does that unsettles all of Zayn’s expectations. All of his predetermined thoughts about messing around with some seventeen year old. Some inexperienced boy who shouldn’t know how to script these sort of feelings into Zayn’s veins.

Liam is a fucking menace and Zayn wants to get away as much as he wants Liam to fill all of the gaps in his blood.

“Piss off,” Zayn says, pushing out a smile, lifting his hips. “Get in me already.”

Liam is slow, careful. He holds Zayn open with his thumb and fingers, easing the head in. It doesn’t take much to break the rim, Zayn’s hole catching around the fat tip. Thoughtlessly, his body adjusts and he relaxes into Liam’s thickness. He takes him so easily that it shocks a supernova to Zayn’s gut.

A blistering heat all down his chest.

It’s not terrible, the pain and the raw ache because Zayn hasn’t done this in ages. He settles a hand to Liam’s hip, steadying him, keeping him from sinking too deep too fast. But it doesn’t last long and he exhales a long breath before feeling Liam bottom out.

Before he feels so full, so cored by the length of Liam’s dick.

“Go on with ya,” he breathes, fluttering his eyes shut. He slips into the waves, smiling. “Just do it.”

The drag of Liam’s cock as he pulls back is sharp, nearly painful until he seats himself back in Zayn. It’s slow, annoyingly so, but Zayn refuses to complain.

He knows Liam needs his own pace. He sounds breathless, like a punch to the gut each time he pushes back in and Zayn knows how that is. He pushes his cheek into the sheets and lets Liam drape biting kisses to his shoulder until he knows Liam is comfortable.

It’s sudden, the way Liam finds his rhythm, his undiscovered confidence. Liam rocks forward, building a pattern. It’s still unpracticed, a bit sloppy, but Zayn loves that.

He fancies how rough it makes the shagging, how the bed starts to creak over the floor, the way Liam goes from soft to deliberately hard in seconds. The smack of his hips along Zayn’s arse until Zayn’s certain there’ll be deep bruises there.

He wants them and he wants Liam to loosen all of the coils holding him back.

“C’mon now,” he mumbles into the sheets, reaching back to squeeze one of Liam’s thighs. “Y’can do better than that.”

Liam fumbles a hand to Zayn’s hip, pulling him back. Right onto his cock. Screwing deep, sounding abashed and anxious whenever he groans. He shifts up onto his knees, tugging Zayn with him, rolling his hips like he does so awkwardly whenever he’s dancing.

Zayn breathes a soft laugh into the crook of his elbow. “That’s it.”

“Shit.”

“Feel good?” Zayn asks, hiccupping out a shaky breath.

“Mm,” Liam hums. “It’s tight, like. S’good.”

He can’t keep quiet when Liam fucks him deeper. All of his words jumble on the edge of his tongue but the noises he exhales make up for it. He’s _loud_ , shamefully so, huffing into his forearm and the duvet while Liam goes from fluid motions into a jackhammer thrust, nearly knock Zayn back off his knees.

Liam goes a bit frantic with his thrusts, panting heavily behind Zayn. His moans slip into that edge of a whimper, holding onto Zayn’s hips for balance.

“S’okay,” Zayn says and he’s not sure if it’s for Liam or himself. “Can go faster.”

His spine curves when Liam fucks him properly. He flattens his palms on the bed to brace himself, gently rocking back onto Liam’s dick. He’s sure he didn’t last this long his first time (too worked up and chasing his climax rather than focusing on his partner) but Liam is a little ruthless.

He’s _glowing_ behind Zayn, muttering words like he’s speaking a different language. Just whimpered chants that echo in Zayn’s ears.

Zayn stupidly chances a look over his shoulder and it’s a mistake. One massive _mistake_ because Liam’s eyes are black, wide like tiny solar systems.

He’s staring at the shape of Zayn’s spine and the hunch of his shoulders, his messy dark hair spread around his face like a hood. He’s got his tongue caught between his teeth and his cheeks are flushed a bursting pink. He looks hungry and overwhelmed, _drugged_ , honestly.

Fucking gone over Zayn Malik and that’s new.

( _That’s so tragic_.)

Zayn is leaking all over the bed and he just wants to come now. At all of the hard lines going soft around Liam’s face when they share a stare.

Instead, with little balance, he stretches out to snatch up Liam’s phone from the sheets. There’s sweat from his brow in his eyes as he thumbs over the lock screen (he grins at Liam’s silly password: _batmanzap_ ) and gasps sharply when Liam goes a bit too deep, finding the camera app after three attempts.

He swallows thickly before passing the phone back to Liam.

“Go on,” he says, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth. “Get a video, babe. Want y’ to know how loud you made me. Have a proper pull to it later on.”

It’s disturbingly voyeuristic, he knows, and it’s not something he’s ever done, truthfully. But nothing about Liam feels like something he’s ever done, experienced. It’s all new and still a little too much to handle but Zayn likes that.

The danger of it all.

“Fuck, Zayn,” Liam breathes, still pounding into him. Breathless little whines creep out of his throat but Zayn twists to look over his shoulder, smirking as Liam focuses his camera on the suddenly slow stroke of his cock in and out of Zayn’s hole.

“That’s it,” Zayn croons, arching. “Got me so hard, babe. Fucking me so deep. Such a good lad. So good f’r me.”

His words slur, still so high off all of this. His knees ache from pushing into the mattress and he just wants to curl a hand around his cock but he refrains. He wants to give Liam a little bit of a show, something to remember.

Something to look back on.

Zayn bares his weight down on his palms and eases himself back on Liam’s cock. He nearly pulls all the way off, hissing, chewing his lip.

“C’mon,” Liam mumbles, stilling his hips. “Fuck y’self on my dick, babe.”

A shiver races through Zayn’s blood and he loves Liam like this – _raw_. Confident. So into Zayn and whatever this is.

(It’s a lot like the four letters Zayn hasn’t found the courage to say yet, but – )

“Shit,” Zayn hisses, complying mindlessly.

“So tight around me,” Liam adds, rougher.

“Yeah,” Zayn smiles, looking down. He grinds off on Liam’s cock, so aroused by the thickness and the way he keeps getting desperately close to Zayn’s prostate. “Keep going. Keep talking, man.”

“Look so good,” Liam sighs, finally snapping his hips forward, nearly slipping out. “On your knees f’r me.”

“Hmm,” Zayn hums, leaning down onto his elbows. He finds the right angle like this – the tip of Liam’s cock pressed firmly to his prostate.

“Y’like it?”

“Fuck, Liam,” he huffs. “So good. Keep going.”

“Can’t hear you.”

“Fuck me, Liam, shit.”

He’s careless with his voice, his throat burnt out like he’s huffed through a whole pack of cigarettes. His lungs squeeze around every beat like they’re filled with sticky green product. His fingers curl over the duvet and his cock swings hard between his legs, precome squirting out in steady thin streams now.

“Gonna shoot off?” Liam asks, still aiming his camera, catching his bottom lip with his teeth.

Zayn squeezes around a mouthful of words, shoving out a _‘yes’_ before he loses his composure.

“C’mon, babe,” Liam half-pleads. “Need to hear it. Wanna feel you around me cock when you come.”

Zayn sneaks a hand between his legs, clenching around the shaft, thumbing under the head. He’s usually much more deliberate and focused but Liam’s dicking down at this decidedly brilliant angle and Zayn blurts out a breath before coming between his fingers.

There’s a distant, muted thump of the phone hitting the bed (honestly, he hopes Liam doesn’t accidentally upload the video to his twitter or something) because there’s a siren ringing in Zayn’s ears but he feels Liam’s fingers coil around his hips, pulling him all the way back. His hole involuntarily squeezes around Liam’s dick and it unsettles these tight whines from Liam’s chest.

“Keep squeezing,” he pleads, his voice cracking like he’s just turned thirteen.

Zayn’s too slack to focus but he gives a halfhearted clench of his muscles before Liam’s pressing him down onto the mattress, growling out a moan while he spasms.

It’s all fuzzy in his head, even the pulse of the music, Liam’s soft breaths just behind his ear. Liam feels a tad heavy but Zayn refuses to complain. He turns his head until the duvet isn’t suffocating him, keeping his eyes shut while his lips quirk into an unconscious smile.

(Like feeling _accomplished_ , proud that he’s done this for his boy – )

Liam rubs over his hips with sweaty hands, nosing at Zayn’s shoulder blade. He smothers kisses to the fantail inked at the top of Zayn’s spine.

“Was good, then?” Zayn asks, still trying to catch his breath, relax his lungs.

Liam hums a response, sighing.

“I-I don’t even know what t’ call it – “

“S’fine,” Zayn smiles. “Take it all in.”

He feels sore, a shallow ache surging through his muscles when Liam gently pulls out. The sweat makes him feel sticky and teenaged. He can’t remember the last time he had a shag that left him this knackered, unwilling to move more than a few inches to get out of the wet spot.

Lazily, he strips the duvet off the bed, letting it ball up on the floor. He stretches until his joints crack, his eyes feeling heavy and tiny jolts of lightning shifting under his skin.

Zayn flops onto his back like a dead fish, exhaling at the ceiling. He finds a cool spot on the sheets and listens to Liam stumble around the room, tossing the rubber, humming happily like he’s just won a race.

Or a trophy.

Like he’s conquered something and Zayn grins to himself because – yeah, he knows that feeling.

“Got me bed all wet again,” he comments, his tongue heavy, his words still slurred.

“Need a shower,” Liam laughs, shagging a hand through his messy curls. “But I feel like Superman? Or Captain America?” he adds, shrugging, looking so dopey, rocking on his heels.

“Bruce Wayne, babe,” Zayn grins, watching Liam from an upside down view. “Too cool for those other lads.”

Liam glows with fingers tangled in his hair. He beams and turns ruddy all over. “You donut,” he heaves but, behind his grin, he looks sort of thankful.

Some teenage superhero in the middle of Zayn’s shitty room.

“Gonna have a proper lie-in? Kip over tonight?” he wonders, patting lazily at a dry spot on the bed next to him.

Liam climbs down onto it, curling around Zayn like a right octopus or sommat. Zayn snorts, easing clean fingers into Liam’s damp curls. He drags the come off his other hand, over the sheets, loving how Liam’s drippy curls tangle around his fingers like loose vines.

“Just might,” he mumbles, kissing at Zayn’s throat. “Hope me mum doesn’t mind.”

“She know you’re with me?”

The flush is automatic over Liam’s cheeks and Zayn wrinkles his face a bit. He’s not a secret, not to Liam’s mates but he knows his mum is a tad old-fashioned. Still so new to Liam coming out, openly bringing Zayn around his family. Still adjusting to Zayn being this misfit twenty-two year old with stubble, huffing through cigarettes in leather jackets, probably too old for Liam anyway.

Too uncertain of his own goals to matter much to Liam and the things he has planned.

“Told her I was gonna pop in to the dance and then,” Liam goes quiet, his fingers slicking over Zayn’s chest to track his heartbeat. “I-I mean, didn’t exactly lie, but – “

“Right,” Zayn says, quick and careless.

He knows how it goes.

Zayn knows not to make a fuss. Because this is Liam’s last year of sixth form and then it’s onto university. Onto a proper boyfriend with some direction and a purpose. Zayn’s a bookmark, he’s sure. He’s that lad that gets Liam’s slow stride into adulthood going – he’s not an epilogue in Liam’s story.

Just the lad that helps Liam get comfortable enough in his skin that he finds somebody proper to fall in love with.

“Sounds fair,” Zayn shrugs.

He can feel Liam blinking up at him, inspecting Zayn’s carefully blank expression.

“She keeps nagging me about uni,” Liam sighs, nosing at Zayn’s collarbone. “There’s small schools around here. I could easily get into sommat around here, like. She wants me to get out of here and go somewhere bigger. Manchester, maybe?”

Zayn nods along, peering at all of the stupid cracks in his ceiling. He wants a cigarette and some quiet, he thinks.

“Sounds brilliant,” he mutters.

“But – “

“Why stick ‘round here? This place is shit for you,” Zayn says, clearing his throat of hesitation. He knows better. “There’s some good universities up north, too. Could maybe get into Sheffield. Possibly Nottingham. Big schools or sommat.”

Under his eyelashes, Zayn can see Liam frowning. He refuses to be bothered by it. He doesn’t want Liam to end up some lovesick teenager, dragging down his chances to muck about with Zayn.

Especially if Zayn can’t even be troubled with admitting he’s a bit in love with this boy.

He feels a bit foolish, tucking his chin, licking at his lips. “Thought about places like that?”

Zayn’s curious because, well, he _likes_ hearing things like this. The things Liam dreams about, all of the things he wants to accomplish. Even dumb stuff like all of the sick comic books Liam finds at vintage bookshops or new music he discovers on Spotify.

It’s all just – it’s new still and Zayn hasn’t quite had that before Liam.

Liam swallows shallowly, shrugging. “Applied to Leeds ‘cause, like, my dad always wanted t’ go there. Heard its proper nice up there.”

Zayn nods, humming. “Could be. Should check it out.”

“Yeah,” Liam whispers, still frowning. “S’ppose so.”

Zayn drags his fingers along Liam’s scalp and, absently, presses a kiss to his temple. He feels Liam turn into his neck, his favorite spot to be. It’s nice, Liam’s hand drifting down to Zayn’s belly and Zayn can feel three words inch up his throat but he swallows them, eventually.

It’s not necessary right now – _they’re comfortable_.

Why bother with another first when they’re still caught in the waves of the last one?

 

+++

 

“She had these fanastic tits and, feckin’ hell, she was so wet when I went down on ‘er, like – Zayner, y’ paying attention or what?”

Zayn blinks up at Niall, dazed. He’s sprawled across his bed, two weeks later, arms folded behind his head with Niall tucked into his side.

They’ve taken to their usual Saturday ritual – untranslated anime cartoons on the telly, boxes of their favorite pizzas, a baggy of premium shit stolen from Harry’s collection, and sitting around in their pants to talk shit until they’re too buzzed to remember what time it is.

Except Zayn’s barely gotten a puff off the neatly twisted joint and he’s barely listened to Niall gob on and on about some bird he met at a party last night. He just watches the ceiling like he’s done almost every day for two weeks.

Two bloody pathetic weeks since he thought about Liam leaving for university and spitting out the words he should’ve said that night instead.

“Yeah, yeah,” he huffs, rubbing a hand over his face. “Massive tits. Sick blowjob. Dripping all over your trousers, mate. Dark hair and blue eyes – “

“ _Redhead_ and _green eyes_ , you dick,” Niall groans, laughing at nothing. “You’re a shit friend.”

“That’s fair,” Zayn shrugs back. “Still better than you.”

“Possibly,” Niall grins. “That’s ‘cause you’re a feckin’ legend, Malik. Still my favorite.”

Zayn smiles with his bottom lip between his teeth. “Then stop giving me shit, alright?”

“Just sayin’,” Niall hums, sucking in another drag of smoke that he coughs right back out. Bloody amateur. “You’re _gone_ , man. Not even asking me if she had a friend or sommat.”

“Did she?” Zayn exhales.

Niall thumps a fist to Zayn’s shoulder, nearly missing. “Doesn’t matta. You’re taken, ‘member? Fit little lad who’s quite made ov’r your pathetic arse.”

Zayn lifts his eyebrows like he’s interested in Niall’s nonsense but he just squints at the ceiling. And all of the cracks. Niall’s right – he’s pathetic.

“Where is the nerdy little bugger?” Niall wonders, his voice choked from holding the smoke in too long. “Not like you t’ free up time f’r me on a weekend anymore.”

It’s a tease, Zayn’s aware, but it still stings deep in his chest. The way he’s always ditching off from parties with Niall or burning up a spliff with Harry on his balcony to spend a night in with Liam. Watching films or sharing a tub of Liam’s favorite ice cream or just having a noisy snog before wanking each other off.

He feels foreign, not himself anymore. Or someone else. Someone better? He doesn’t know. In fact, Zayn’s bloody certain he doesn’t want to know that lad at all.

“Dunno,” he finally replies, wriggles his nose when Niall blinks at him owlishly. “Chillin’ with his mates and family. Game night or sommat?”

Niall hums contently, wagging a finger at Zayn, laughing at himself. “Not your scene?”

“Y’know it’s not, Nialler,” Zayn groans, squeezing his eyes shut. “Rather muck about campus with you and Haz. Watch you two idiots fail to go on a pull. Awful chat-up lines and shit.”

“Hey,” Niall whines, offended. “Me lines always work. There’s this redhead that – “

“The one from last night?” Zayn offers, grinning.

Niall’s lips curl around his next word like he’s shocked. Like he’s just now remembering that he was just prattling on about this and –

“Fuck you, Malik.”

“Love you too, Ni,” Zayn giggles, nudging Niall’s ribs with an elbow. “She was probably too drunk to know you’d be shit in bed.”

“Birds tell tales about me cock, you tosser,” Niall announces loudly, ignoring the fact that half of Zayn’s university hall probably knows more about Niall’s sex life now than anyone should.

Zayn smirks and, yeah, he misses Saturdays like this. A proper single lad with his stoned best mate and nothing on his shoulders.

Nothing except the fact that he wishes Liam was around, poking the spaces between Zayn’s ribs, pretending like he’s not thinking about sucking Zayn off all the time. Or sneaking kisses to Zayn’s lips until Zayn feels helpless, tugging Liam all the way down under the duvet.

_Fucking pathetic_.

“Not t’be a creeper or nowt, but,” Niall starts, sounding Zen, fully relaxed next to Zayn, “I might’ve spotted a few pamphlets on your desk, mate. Universities up north? Leaving me behind?”

Zayn gives a careless shrug, sniffing. “Graduate school.”

“Yeah, but,” Niall hums, stubby fingers finding their way into Zayn’s hair. “Why not ‘round here?”

Zayn bites over his lip and flits his eyes away. He’s not willing to give in and he doesn’t even remember why he bothered looking up all of those schools. He’s settled here, quite content, okay? He doesn’t need to follow Liam around like a lost pup –

He sighs, flicking his tongue over his lips, watching the ceiling. “He’ll be off soon,” he says, quietly, like it hurts to admit this. “Gone, man. And I dunno – just been thinking, ‘s all.”

“Thinking,” Niall repeats, narrowing his eyes with a cheeky smile. “You a bit in love, mate? Gone over this boy?”

Zayn rolls his eyes but he loves the way Niall scratches fingers over his scalp, pushing towards the touch.

“A bit ridic, innit?”

“Nope,” Niall pops out, laughing. “It’s lovely. Moody little Zayner gone over some high school kid. Makes you look proper _human_ , if I’m honest.”

“Yeah, well,” Zayn frowns, squeezing his eyes shut, wrinkling his nose. “Just thinking.”

Niall doesn’t push him on it and Zayn hopes it’s because he’s too buzzed to think of the right questions. His phone vibrates next to him and he blindly finds it, queueing up the main screen, thumbing at an Instagram notification.

Vulnerably, Zayn’s lips hitch up into a grin at shit filter Liam uses and the way he looks so daft while grinning into the camera while holding up a fistful of Monopoly money.

**@fakeliampayne: championnnnn!! gonna go on holiday w @niazkilam haha x**

It’s dumb, really, but Zayn feels something thump loudly behind his chest and it claws at his insides until he sighs happily. He doesn’t think – not anymore.

“Hey,” he says, half-turning to Niall, exaggerating his smirk. “Wanna fuck about with some strangers for a bit?”

Niall flashes him a skeptical look, eyes completely unfocused from the weed. “High school kids, maybe?”

Zayn doesn’t deny the way his cheeks heat up with blush before he gives a quick nod.

“Maybe,” he grins and he feels so high without the smoke this time.

Out of place and completely gone over a boy.

 

+++

 

It’s noisy in Liam’s backyard. Just a rough gathering of some of his mates, all of them taking the piss at each other about the dance or failed hook-ups while Liam’s sisters dance drunkenly over to whatever’s on Radio 1 at this time of night. Niall's perched on a lawn chair, having a smoke and a chat with Andy a few yards away.

“She had fantastic tits and when I went down on her – “

Zayn smirks, shaking his head. Niall’s voice is that raspy-buzz it usually is after a good spliff and Zayn hopes Liam’s parents can’t overhear him from the back door.

“Sick, man,” Andy crows, smacking Niall’s knee affectionately.

Zayn’s got a cigarette between his lips and an arm curled around Liam’s wide shoulders. Liam’s half-laughing into his neck at them and Zayn grins up at the purple sky rather than a cracked ceiling.

“It’s a bit weird, innit?” Liam asks, taking a clumsy sip of Cola. It dribbles down his chin and he giggles as he uses his wrist to wipe it away. “Hanging with me mates?”

Zayn gives a thoughtless shrug, flicking away his cigarette. It burns out in the mulch. “S’ppose not. They’re cool.”

“Cool,” Liam repeats, nodding. “Not like university blokes, though, eh?”

Zayn raises his eyebrows, pouting his lips. “Wouldn’t know. Don’t much enjoy that sort of crowd. Just like t’ chill.”

“Chill,” Liam echoes and he doesn’t sound like he’s parroting Zayn. Just tasting the words, feeling out their texture, trying to fit himself into that confident skin.

“You’ll know in a few months,” Zayn exhales, looking away.

There’s tea lights hung all around the snow-soaked tree limbs and it gives the grass a proper glow, almost like summer except they’re all outside in heavy coats and scarves.

“I guess,” Liam mumbles, sounding partially wounded. “Up north, right?”

Zayn doesn’t reply, digging the toe of his boot into the stiff ground. He watches his smoky breathy turn foggy from the cold before his fingers find a tangle of Liam’s curls to cling to.

“About all of that,” he says, the words barely fitting into his throat. “Gonna have to find a flat that’s pretty cheap and stuff. Can’t really afford nothing posh at the moment and all. And graduate school is a bit expensive.”

He licks out a grin when Liam stares at him with a crumpled brow, confused. There’s a loud, loud laugh in his chest that he contains for a moment.

“Leeds, huh?”

Liam blinks at him again, lowering his brow.

“Should be nice,” Zayn shrugs, cocking his head back. “You won’t get bored with me knocking around your room, right? Missing out on all of the fresher parties to watch _Age of Ultron_ with me, eh?”

He waits for it – the way Liam turns all giddy. A proper child starting to glow around the edges. Liam squeeze an arm around Zayn’s back for a half-hug. A cold, chapped kiss pressed to Zayn’s cheek and he feels like –

Well, a _boyfriend_. Something more than a chapter in Liam’s life.

“All me mates will think me mental for missing keggers to shag about with some slacker,” Liam teases, his eyes bunching up when he grins.

“Hey,” Zayn whines, playing up an offended tone. “Gonna go to graduate school and make somethin’ of meself, you arse.”

“Whatever,” Liam sighs, his voice honeyed and content. “It’ll be nice.”

“Nice,” Zayn repeats, keeping his fingers in Liam’s hair. He tugs enough that Liam almost whimpers dirtily. Zayn smiles roughly before he says, confidently, “I love you, babe.”

He expects it to hurt like lightning on your skin or like someone knocking a foot to your bullocks but –

Liam’s eyelashes move rapidly and his mouth peels open like he’s unprepared. Wide brown eyes that are nervous like he was at that stupid party too long ago, amazed that someone like Zayn would even bother chatting him up.

“S’cool,” Zayn laughs, rolling his eyes. “Don’t have’ta say it back or nothing, man. Just wanted t’ like, let you know and stuff.”

He chews at his lower lip, feeling anxious under this casual attitude he gives off. Because maybe it was too much, too soon. Maybe he really isn’t anything more than just a start for Liam rather than something memorable. He should just shut the fuck up for once and wiggle away but Liam leans up that inch of space that separates them in height now until their eyes are level.

“Huh,” he smiles, their noses brushing. “Didn’t take you for _one of those lads_ , man. The sort that knows how t’ be romantic.”

Zayn’s lips curl and he feels his heart shoved so hard against his chest that it really does hurt.

“Shut it,” he mumbles, dancing his lips over Liam’s. “Least I said it first.”

“Yeah, but,” Liam says with a smile and a cockiness in his grin. “I _thought_ it first. All the time, man. For months. So I win.”

“S’not a contest,” Zayn mumbles, pushing forward to quiet Liam with a kiss.

“Oi, they’re children around!” Andy barks at them, laughing.

“Lads,” Niall smirks, his voice still dreamy, “Leave ‘em to it, then. Can’t help it if they’re good and in love, eh?”

Liam’s mum coos a bit from the door and Zayn doesn’t care if everyone is watching, staring at them while they snog tenderly in the haze. It’s all his fault, mostly.

Zayn likes how people are always watching them, the attention they get and, now, he thinks Liam loves it too.

(Liam loves _him_ , too.)

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm always scared sequels will never live up to the original so I hope this is okay?
> 
> Love and appreciate all of the feedback, kudos, messages I get. I'm over on tumblr if you want [x](http://jmcats.tumblr.com/).


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